


a gleam of white

by straightforwardly



Category: A Redtail's Dream (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 19:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/pseuds/straightforwardly
Summary: A reunion.





	a gleam of white

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



In the evenings, Kielo always took a walk. She always started with a round through the graveyard, checking for troublemakers and looking in on her favorite graves, and from there she went on to wherever struck her fancy that day, whether it was through the village or into the forest. She’d picked up the habit as a young girl, when her legs had ached from hours of inactivity at her desk. Now her bones that ached rather than her legs, but still she walked. 

Lately, her nighttime wanderings drew her to the lakeside. It wasn’t precisely a deliberate decision on her part. It was just that when she finished her round through the graveyard and had made certain that all was as it ought to be, her feet automatically turned to the lake, and she saw no reason why she shouldn’t listen. 

Spring neared, but winter still had its hold on the land. That night, Kielo walked alongside the shore with her gloved hands shoved into her pockets, the cool air nipping at the exposed skin of her face. A quarter moon mingled with starlight from the cloudless sky; her feet crunched over the thinning snow. Black gaps interspersed between the sheets of ice coating the lake, showing where the spring thaw had already begun. Nothing stirred; Kielo was alone.

A normal evening.

As she walked, she let her thoughts wander, sorting through all the little troubles she hadn’t had time for during the day. Her nephew had been nagging at her lately about the “safety” of her nightly wanderings. Her telling him that she’d been talking her walks without incident for twice as long as he’d been alive hadn’t seemed to deter him. Pity his mother was gone; he’d always listened to her. Ah, well… He’d see, sooner or later. Maybe she’d bar him from visiting for a while, until he was sensible again. It’d mean missing out on the baked sweets he always brought when he visited, though, which would be a shame… He really excellent at baking… The Jalkanen family would be coming by the next day to see about funeral preparations. Shame, that one. The girl had been rather young… Still, death came to all in its time… That sullen troublemaker, the Viitanen boy, he’d been acting odd earlier... She’d not seen him in some months, but he’d been working at the bakery when she’d stopped by early that morning. He’d actually brightened when he’d seen her (not his usual reaction), and had even given her a discount on her bread. Odd, that…

Though it did bring to mind… something. Kielo frowned, trying to bring the thought—the memory—into focus. The sounds of water lapping against stone and distant weeping, the Viitanen boy… hugging her? Why? And something else… _someone_ else… someone important…

After a moment, Kielo set it aside. It was irritating, that she couldn’t remember, but the memory wouldn’t come to her if she chased it. She’d need to be patient. Now, where was she…

Gradually, she became aware of large white form on the lake. She couldn’t say how long it’d been there; it blended in well against the ice. But unlike the ice it moved, slow but deliberate, across the lake, though much of it was still covered. It almost seemed as though the ice itself parted to allow it through…

Kielo stopped, and watched as it neared. After a bit she saw that it was a swan. She wondered, briefly, if her vision was failing. It was still far too cold for any swans to be back yet.

Then the swan neared, and she saw that it was no ordinary swan. It was over twice as large, nearly as large as a human. No, larger. Its size had tricked her—it wasn’t as far away as she’d thought.

The missing memory clicked into place. Lauri’s weeping, a pleading voice… and a rare moment of true understanding.

Kielo realized: she knew that swan. 

It made sense, that she’d forgotten—it was likely unwise for mortals to remember the afterlife—but still, she found herself shocked that she’d forgotten. That she’d forgotten _her_. 

The Swan of Tuonela floated up to her, sitting in black water where before there had only been ice besides Kielo’s feet. She scarcely noticed the change. An overwhelming feeling of lightness had come upon her, and when she looked up to the Swan’s dear head, a smile sprang to her face unheeded.

“Ah,” she said, her words coming out like a sigh. “I’m glad to see you again.”

Some tension flowed away from the Swan’s body at those words. Drily, she answered, “It’s rare for me to hear that.”

Kielo nodded. She understood. So many people, even those who’d lived long and well, feared the end. Yes, she could imagine the Swan’s usual reception, though it made her heart seize with sudden sympathy. Unfair, that. The Swan wasn’t what killed people. She was only doing her job. 

Outloud, she said, “I suppose this means I’ve passed on, then?”

She didn’t remember dying, but she supposed that made sense. She hadn’t remember reaching Tuonela the first time either. She’d only felt the flutter of a bird’s wings beneath her, then had opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by a handful of other villagers and the sleeping dead, the Swan’s great form swooping down towards them. Then, as now, she faced the prospect calmly, though she spared a moment’s regret for her nephew. He was a soft-hearted lad. His vindication over the so-called dangers of her walks wouldn’t do much to comfort him when the news came. 

But to her surprise, the Swan shook her head. She shifted on the water, looking faintly embarrassed. “You’re alive. This isn’t an… official visit.”

“Oh?” Kielo couldn’t hide her surprise—or her sudden spark of interest. Her heartbeat quickened. “Forgive me, but I had the impression that you didn’t leave Tuonela outside of business.”

“I don’t, usually. A—coworker of mine, I suppose you can call her, has been helping with the paperwork recently.” A dark look passed briefly over her face. Then she looked back at Kielo, and it faded, turning into something softer. “She was the one who suggested that I take a break.”

“And so you came to the mortal world?” Kielo smiled again, reaching up to set a hand against the side of the Swan’s thin neck. “I’m glad we happened to run into each other, then.”

“Oh, that wasn’t an accident,” said the Swan. Again returned that air of vague embarrassment, but she didn’t hesitate to continue. “I decided to come find you. Not many see the position I’m in, you see. Not like you did.”

“We understood each other,” said Kielo softly. Again, that racing heart. Silly. She was an old woman now, not that young girl who’d blushed every time a certain one of the girls in her class had taken notice of her. And yet…

“Yes,” said the Swan. “Exactly. I wanted to see if that would be the same, if we met here.”

Kielo stepped forward, so that the lake-water lapped against the tip of her boots. “And is it?”

The Swan snorted, lowering her head. She looked at her with knowing eyes. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Kielo chuckled, and leaned in, pressing her forehead against hers. Her eyes fell closed. “I suppose it is.”

* * *

In the evenings, Kielo always took a walk. Her nephew fussed about it sometimes, but no matter. She always started with a round through the graveyard, checking for troublemakers and looking in on her favorite graves, and from there she went on. Always, she went to the lakeside, and always she went alone. 

But sometimes, if one looked from a distance, the form of a giant swan could be seen gliding along besides her.


End file.
